


Memories in the Rain

by Toastie_Pan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Peril, Unbeta'd we die like meb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 20:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15759486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastie_Pan/pseuds/Toastie_Pan
Summary: Noctis runs away, regrets his decision.





	Memories in the Rain

Running out of the Citadel Noctis flung himself through the undergrowth, ignoring the rain that lashed into his face and the echo of shouts from behind him. His heart pounded as he pumped his arms just getting away…away, _anywhere but here_. His breath felt like it was being punched out of his chest as the wind snapped the branches above him. Tears lost to the wind, nausea clawed at his throat, winding this way and that in the slowly deepening woods.  
A root, trip and a crash of small limbs against mud and rocks. A startled yell and Prince Noctis found himself at the bottom of a small ditch, half submerged by the water collected at its base. Spluttering and spitting in the increasing howl of the wind and now thunder rolling above, Noctis hurriedly threw himself backwards, scrambling till his back was pressed against the slick wall, his feet out of the water. Heart still thundering, limbs shaking for exertion and adrenaline the little Prince’s face crumbled as a wail he couldn’t control ripped itself from his chest. Soaked through, shivering in cold and pain as blood dilutes down his knees and face, Noctis wailed into the obstinate storm.  
Slowly, but surely Noctis’ cries turned into whimpers and to his young annoyance, hiccups. Rain continued to fall and he clutched his arms around his torso to stave off the cold which had begun seeping into his bones. He didn’t know what to think, he just felt numb and shaky. He wanted to be home in his room, wrapped in his blankets listening to…

_Mom_

…

He clutched himself tighter as the tears began anew.

_Mommy won’t read to me anymore…_  


No one would tell him what happened after his Mom collapsed, she was rushed off into another room. He tried to go after her but tall men with stern faces he didn’t know kept him in his room. Telling him to calm down and wait patiently. He shouted at them with all the imperiousness and impetuousness of a 4 year old Princeling to ‘Bring Mommy back!’ which eventually turned into pleads of ‘Where did she go?’. Looking at the sorry, solitary image their future King made a sympathetic guard turn and give their partner a look, before approaching the door. They were halfway to saying that they’ll ‘see what’s going on’ when Noctis kicked the first in shin and rolled out of the now open door before the other could react, rushing out into the corridor as fast as he could, ignoring the calls of his name from down the corridor. Slippers slapped loudly against marble, echoing around the stark walls, Noctis could hear the guards following. _It’s fine, they’re not Glaives. They can’t fast travel, where’s mom?_

Turning beneath a curtain, Noctis turned into a hidden staircase before jumping up onto a ledge and using the height to pull himself up into a hole. Dust coated him as he shuffled in the space between floors, it was claustrophobic but Noctis carried on. It was a number one way to escape the guards and he knew he’d gained a few minutes where before there was only seconds. The medical rooms were up several floors, it was there where Noctis went that one time his stomach hurt and it was there his Mom was sure to be. _It’s where everyone went when they were sick right?_ and so Noctis pushed his way out of a vent to his left that was situated behind one of the statues that lined the corridor. Not caring for the dust that still clung to him or the scrapes left behind from un-sanded wood Noctis ran for the nearby elevator, pushing the button. Leaning on his knees he caught his breath. It was a few seconds of silence, before the muffled sounds of boots on marble floated down the corridor. Noctis froze. He never thought they’d get here so soon. Eyes wide he quickly ducked to the side of one of the two green plants that flanked the elevator. Heart rate increasing as the sounds slowly got louder, tick tick, waiting for the elevator, _how long does this thing take?_

The chime of the elevator shot through him and the swish of the doors opening. He was glad he’d hidden behind the plant as another group of guards walked out of the elevator, heading past where he had just been standing. Hearing the sound of hurried boots the guard turned towards the sound of the commotion.

_Now!_  


Ducking around the plant Noctis slid between the doors before they closed, jumping to hit the floor button. The sounds of clamouring guards and shouted orders slid away as the elevator went up. Noctis shook his head, ridding it of the bad thoughts that had tried to sneak in during his moment of quiet.  


_Mom’ll be fine. I’ve just got to find her._  


The doors slide open with the same chime on a thankfully empty corridor and Noctis wastes no time jogging forward. Before reaching an intersection, loud shouts echoed once more, causing Noctis to press himself against the wall but the people who ran past were dressed differently. In blue, and white. _They weren't guards._ Noctis peeked out from the wall.

‘Nothing is happen-‘

‘Has the scan come…’

‘His Majesty bee-‘

‘Get to inventory we need mo-‘

The hurried voices that slid in and out of focus as their owners ran down the corridor, pricked Noctis’ ears. _They’ll be heading toward the medical wing!_

Quickly running to the intersection he ran behind the group that had just come from what he would later find to be the general ward that he was looking for in the first place. Not looking at signs and lights, only focusing on the blue scrubs in front of him, Noctis ran into the double doors with the group, only to finally see his Mother, eyes closed on a bed. A picture of calm in the storm that surrounded her.

His breath felt loud in his ears, the beeps of machines and hurried orders a numbed silence as if through water. The violence of his Mother’s body jerking from the paddles on her chest brought everything back in a cacophony of sudden sounds and Noctis staggered back. It happened again and again until the echoed sound of a flat tone brought all around to silence. Everyone stopped. A collective held breath until a flick of a switch, turned off the machine and the silence was complete.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_‘Mom?’_

  
  
  


A gasp punctuated the statement as all eyes turned to the young Prince, previously unseen in the rampage. An assistant stepped forward as another whispered _‘Astrals’_ sounded through the room. Noctis lifted his eyes up to the masked person, tears in their eyes. Shaking his head his body started shaking.

‘Highness,’ they began ‘Come on let’s find yo- Highness!’

Noctis ran. He pushed through doors and stumbled down stairs, shouts following him all the way down. In the cacophony of voices hammering in his ears and round the halls, the echoed voice of his Father startling him.

‘Noctis!’

Snapping out of his memories Noctis’ foot skidded beneath him, sliding his already half submerged body fully into the water that had slowly gotten higher and higher as he was lost in his thoughts. Scrambling, coughing in the muddy water he flailed towards to bank, panic overriding his lessons. Then again his swimming lessons weren’t in churning water, with a foot sucking muddy floor, during a storm…. _in the dark_. With a gasp, his foot other foot slipped and before he knew it, he was being pulled downstream.  
The current was relentless, further and further away from the lights of the citadel it drug him. Trying to cry out just led to more water falling into his mouth, choking him as he splashed, kicking his legs to try and stay above. He hadn’t wanted this, he had just wanted to get away, he wanted to be home with his Mom telling him stories, warm in his bed, slipping away, into the dreamland where he could run through meadows and dance with faeries.

_Faeries?_

Noctis snapped out his thoughts, and flailed once more, spluttering out of the water, his eyes squinting. Lights? There they were! Lights!

He was bone cold, exhausted beyond what he’d ever known, but something in him knew. Get to the lights, get to the lights! He swam. Kicking his legs, using the current as he moved, trying to push himself towards the lights, blinking above the now barely visible edge of the ditch, a stark black against the branches bouncing against the sky.

‘Noctis!’

The high pitched shout broke through the sound of rain and churning water. Noctis tried, he tried to shout back but every time he opened his mouth, more water flooded in. He pushed his head above water, coughing, his arms slashing, hoping for purchase. Slapping his arms, his fingers touched something, without thinking his hand clenched, desperate he held on, refusing to let go as the water gripped him, trying with all its might to pull him back to the depths.

A rustle of sound, rocks flying, causing splashes in the water amongst the rain, then suddenly a hand grasped his.

‘Grab my hand Noct!’

Slapping his other arm out the water in desperation he grasped onto the lifeline suddenly given to him. Its strength shocking him as he felt himself pulled out of the water with a gasp. The arm flew to his back, gripping his shirt.

‘Grab the ledge!’

Reaching his hand out his fingers found grass and he gripped with the last of his strength, helping his unseen saviour to push him onto the edge. His body flipped over and he found himself looking at trees, lit by torchlight. Heavy breathing snapped him back into focus.

‘Noct, Astrals what the _Ifrits Hells_ you doing?!’

Noctis looked sideways where his saviour had collapsed.

‘Gladio?’ he whispered, unable to do much more.

The boy in question looked over to him, his flashlight lost by his side.

‘I can’t have you die, before I can protect you from it!’ he yelled.

Noctis could only blink. He was so tired…he was so cold. He wanted his Mom. But she was…  
Next to him Gladiolus sighed into the night before raising himself.

‘Come on, we gotta get back. Your Dad-…His Majesty is tearing the place up looking for you.’  
‘He’s back?’  
The quiet words seemed loud in the storm to Gladiolus, sighing once more, burying his own feelings underneath a cask of iron he turned to his Prince with a small smile.  
‘Yeah. He’s back.’

Noctis didn’t remember much after that. He was aware of a strong back beneath his head, arms beneath his knees. Piggybacked slowly back to the Citadel, cold and shivering on the shoulders of his future shield. There were shouts and thuds and a clamour as lights shone this way and that. An arm pulled him from Gladio and he whimpered reaching out, before an unfamiliar, yet also painfully familiar smell enveloped him, with the rustle of heavy fabrics and small clinks of metal.

‘It’s okay my Noctis,’ his Father whispered, his voice thick ‘I have you now.’

It was a couple of days later on the evening that Clarus Amicitia walked into his King’s room. The light that usually filled the Citadel’s corridors was subdued in Honour of Her Royal Majesty’s passing. A proclamation had been sent out across the Capital and the whole of Insomnia, and if reports were to be believed, the whole of Lucis were in mourning of the beloved Queen.  
Clarus sighed. Aulea had been a friend, a close friend for many years. Quick to laugh with a wit that matched, mischievous and yet fond of quiet at ponds and lakes. She had been a beacon to his liege, protecting him from the crushing pain of his rule, the war, the Crystal, the As-  
A blast from behind the doors, slammed Clarus to the ground before he could focus on what had happened. His heart thudded and his training took over. Lifting himself up and wrenching his greatsword from the Armiger he raced into the room through the blasted and now crumpled doors. Lifting his blade to fend of those who dared attack his Majesty he was instead blasted once more to the ground; lightening snapped across the walls as Clarus blinked, trying to gather his wits. His blade was glowing, absorbing the elemental charges.

It was only then he recognised the pained cries of his friend. Cries which cause him to leap up and race to Regis’ side who was collapsed by his desk, paper strewn around him, some burning slowly, others already in ashes around him.

‘Your Majesty! wha-?’ Clarus cried, grasping him by his arm, shook to his core by the look of anguish on Regis’ face.

Another blast dropped him, wrenching him from Regis' side. By the Gods he was barely awake!

'Regis! Stop this!' He cried

Regis didn’t stop, the tension grew in the air. Lightening cracked across wall to ceiling, smashing pots and bookshelves. Clarus breathed hard before steeling his heart with resolve and pulling his hand back.

The tension snapped as air popping out of a pierced bubble, leaving silence and quiet. Regis looked with eyes almost dead at his friend and shield. A redness now blossoming on the side of his cheek where Clarus’ hand had connected.

‘Regis’ Clarus began, ‘tell me; speak to me. What brings on such madness?’

Clarus’ eyes search the weary face before him and fearfully, finding more than grief for his friend's love and wife. But finding a crushing disbelief that Clarus could have sworn he expected Nifilheim troops to come smashing through the windows at any moment. But then, with a sliver of ice down his spine his thoughts went to the next of the bloodline.

‘Noctis? Is he-?’

Regis’ face steeled. A dead man turned to stone. A corpse become effigy of his ancestors. A held breath Clarus’ only reply as Regis stood.

‘The Astrals came to me last night. Bahamut came and my ancestors. They spoke of Prophecy. Of Noct…and...my boy…my…’

Clarus rose, watching Regis return to his seat, extinguishing flame with a wave of his hand till all the room was silent.

‘…Prophecy, my liege?’ he hesitantly asked.

Regis was silent, his face a mask before he turned his eyes to his shield. No longer the soft eyes of his friend, but the cold eyes of a King.

‘Your son, he performed admirably for one so young.’

Clarus unconsciously straightened his back in pride at talk of his son, noting the sudden change in topic.

‘And he brought my son back to me, regardless of the danger. But-‘ Regis paused, ‘Your son will also need someone for him. He will not accept what will come to pass lightly. The position for advisor has been accelerated.’

Clarus stiffened. The advisor position was never filled till the monarch came of age to begin his duties, this was the way it’d always been, and talk of his son…

‘Your Majesty what has happen-‘ Clarus begun.

‘Enough!’ Regis cried, silencing his shield once more. ‘Leave. And prepare for Noctis’ birthday. It is only a few days away now and things must be ready by tomorrow.’

Clarus knew a dismissal when he heard one. His Leige and friend was calm on the surface, but his eyes warned a storm.

‘Regis, talk to me please.’

Silence followed his plea, the eyes before him refusing to blink as they stared down his shield.

‘After the funeral, Noctis’ birthday must be celebrated. An advisor chosen and prepared. That is all.’

Regis turned back to his papers as Clarus stiffened and bowed. Leaving the study he told the curious staff to get maintenance to fix the doors. With heavy steps he stomped down the corridor, towards Noctis’ room. Passing the great frieze of the King of Light without a thought he turned past the throne room and the meeting halls towards the living quarters of the higher halls.  
Entering Noctis’ room after nodding to the guards stationed at the door, Clarus appraised his son sat at a pale Noctis’ side. Standing to attention as Clarus entered the room, stepping forward despite knowing his Father, always protecting his charge.

‘Father.’ Gladiolus bowed.

Clarus nodded to his son before moving to the opposite side.

‘He has moved only slightly since this morning, I was going to turn him at 3, to stop muscle lethargy. He hasn’t woken, however he had been mumbling. I think he should wake soon.’

Clarus hadn’t expected the sudden report from his son, but then again he _had_ trained him well. With a slight smile hidden from his son, Clarus smoothed his features, giving Gladiolus a nod. His heart warmed from the freezing it had just been given from his King, at the actions of his still young eldest; _so determined._

Gladiolus however fidgeted slightly under his Father’s gaze before Clarus uttered, ‘At ease, son’ and Gladiolus was able to sit once more by the bed.

Turning from his son to his charge, Clarus frowned. Truly His Highess will wake soon, and then they will move forward for what it to come. Until then…  
Clarus grabbed a chair and moved it towards his son, sitting down by the bed. Before Gladiolus could say anything he placed his hand on his boy’s head, ruffling his hair. Quietly saying well done.

_Well Done._

**Author's Note:**

> Yes it was what you thought it was that Regis was told. The timeline might be a touch warped but it kinda worked. Thank you for taking the time to read :)


End file.
